Easter23

[Terry A]

 

On days where no shadows
waste slag the sky
where words stop their blue jay chattering 
and Easter the rising
bursts on sunlight still chained
             to every creeping sunset
…smiles pinned in place
in front of frowns gauging worth.

What are riches ?   To an old man
with food in his belly
       When wild dreams
flutter in mirage
and thoughts now
of salvation
       waving white flags of resignation
in some bow to time
and its taking of all the lights
save the ones
       wavering candles
in wind.    Could it even be said now
that moments have worth (?)
when the great universe
reaches for us
     its children chattering
as if knowing
              what to expect.

[David W. Parsley]

Hi Terry, lots of imaginative thought running through here.  I confess to struggling with connecting the "chained", "pinned", and "creeping" action of the first stanza to the rest of the poem.  I found the concluding lines quite compelling.

Thanks,
- David

[Terry A]

Thanks David, your comments are much appreciated.  I don't know, the poems makes complete sense to me, but I'll put it on the revise pile and see if I can unify the meaning better. Happy Easter!